


fear is not afraid of you, but guilts a language you can understand

by riptxdes (fukmylyf)



Category: Dreamer Trilogy - Maggie Stiefvater, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Child Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Whump, again. sorry, fuck niall lynch, i guess??, no happy ending, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 09:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28469349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fukmylyf/pseuds/riptxdes
Summary: major cw for child abuse
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	fear is not afraid of you, but guilts a language you can understand

**Author's Note:**

> title is from in between by linkin park

"Declan."

His father's voice was authoritative and hard. It was difficult to read any emotion in it, and the first thing that crossed Declan's mind was that he regretted leaving his door open. Maybe he could've pretended he'd taken an early night and avoided whatever this was shaping up to be, had he been more careful.

"There's a few beers missing from the fridge. You wouldn't know where they've gotten to, would you?"

He didn't know, but he knew who did, and he was going to kill Ronan when he had the chance. He stayed hunched over his desk, though, absentmindedly tapping his pen against the open workbook, hoping if he didn't turn around his dad might go away. He knew that was unlikely, knew that any denials he made would go ignored, knew that even if he outed Ronan, Niall would say it was his responsibility as the older brother to pay closer attention, and this was still his fault. 

He took a deep breath, let it out in a little sigh, and said quietly, "I didn't think you'd notice."

"Turn around when I'm talking to you."

"Yes, sir." He turned slowly to face his father, still standing in the doorway of his room, leant against the frame as if they were having a casual conversation, as if Declan had no reason for his heart to jump up in his throat and his stomach to start twisting. He could hear Matthew and Aurora across the hall, but he knew that he was alone in this, that this was another secret for him and his father only. A part of him preferred it that way, assuring him that this way, his brothers were safe. A meaner, darker part of him wished that they'd share in this too, if only to offer him some place to go after, if only to know that they would believe him, that they would care. Niall shut the door, and the conversation was muffled completely, and Declan swallowed the lump in his throat, staring resolutely at his father's Adam's apple to avoid meeting his eyes. 

"What are you working on?" Niall asked, coming over to perch on the edge of his bed, leaning forward, considering Declan with an expression almost akin to worry (though Declan knew not to be fooled, that this would change in a second, that the harsh glint in his father's eyes and the way his knuckles turned white where they were pressed into fists on his knees wasn't to be ignored). He glanced towards his desk, if only to allow him a short break from his father's cold stare. 

"Homework."

"Diligent as always. What class?"

"English. It's a book report."

His father hummed. This wasn't a casual conversation, Niall wouldn't have closed the door if it was, and Declan wished very badly that his father would just get it over with so he could go to bed and wake up the next morning as if tonight had never happened. "What book is it on?"

"The Great Gatsby."

"Ah, the great American classic." Niall paused, as if he wanted to expand, and Declan could hear the words he wanted to speak, the spirited speech about the immigrant experience, about how Jay Gatsby really wasn't so different from himself, though of course, he was far more successful, and it made Declan want to throw something. Instead, he nodded in agreement, neither prompting more conversation nor dissuading it. The more this dragged on, the more on edge he felt. He pressed his feet flat against the floor and focused on the feeling of the floorboards against his heels, determined to not start bouncing his leg, to not show his father how anxious he already was. He hated this. It felt cruel and drawn out and unnecessary. He knew that in a short moment, the tone would shift, and Declan would admit to stealing the drinks for his friends (a lie, but Ronan could do no wrong in Niall's eyes, and this was the easier path) and Niall would tell Declan to stand up (and Declan's knees would shake and neither of them would comment on it as he stumbled into position in front of his dad) and Declan would turn around as Niall slid his belt out of its loops, squaring his shoulders and squeezing his eyes shut, and Declan would not cry, or yell, or make any sound as the strap beat against his back, once, twice, thrice, until he lost count and he felt red and sore all over. At least Niall let him keep his shirt on this time. It was the little things.

"I only do this to help you," Niall said, sitting on the edge of the bed again, and Declan had collapsed back into his seat and was not wiping at the tears tracking down his cheek because that would be admitting defeat, and he didn't wince when he forgot, for a second, and pressed his back against the backrest, and he didn't bite his lip to muffle a whimper when Niall leant into him as he stood back up. "Finish up your homework for the night and head to bed. It's late."

Niall closed the door behind him as he left, and Declan was alone, and he could hear his mother's voice through the door again, Ronan and Matthew's laughs mingling with hers, and that wasn't fair, was it, that they had gotten to trade stories with their mother, that they had spent their evening having fun, that they would get kisses on the head good night as she tucked them in, and they were all far too old for it at this point, but she did it anyway because Aurora was nothing if not the perfect mother.

He turned off his lights and climbed into bed before she could tuck him in and kiss him good night as well, having just settled under the sheets when he heard his door open, immediately going stiff, focusing on keeping his breathing deep and even, because he didn't think he could bear her hands stroking away his tears and her soft soothing voice telling him that his father did love him, really, her gentle assurances that he would be alright. He heard Niall tell her, gently, in a tone Declan had never heard aimed at him, to leave him alone, kept still as a statue as the door shut as quietly as it had opened, heard the house fall to silence as his mother and father padded off to their own bed, heard his own breathing grow ragged and torn as sobs finally tore their way out of his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i just wanted to project and wrote this after a mental breakdown.


End file.
